Poverty

     The poverty here is not so easy to deal with. After the initial shock you can shut it out, but if you simply take the time to notice the people around you here in Quito, you cannot ignore it. I go to what is usually said to be the nicest university in eucador, and so I only encounter poverty when I'm around in the city or on my daily bus rides.
     On bus rides here in Quito, people have street corners where they get on the bus as it is stopped at the light and get on pushing their goods to sell. It's almost always food--homemade chips, candy, drinks, ice cream, yogurt, and when it's not food, it's ilegal pirated DVDs that you can buy anywhere on the streets. What pains me to see is that it is the same people. every. single. day. all day. This is their job, their life. They spend their days hopping on a couple hundred buses a day, yelling the same slogans, and trying to sell their goods. At first I was a bit naive and thought this is interesting and I can buy stuff if I want. But then, after two or three weeks, I realized THIS IS THIER LIFE. They don't have an office, probably not a car, and probably live in a poor neighborhood. Their goals are selling goods that are under a dollar--each sale is petty change to me, but probably adds up for them.
     And maybe they have to support a family... it just becomes too much. Sometimes it makes me feel bad for living my life the way I do. I was able to ignore them for a while, but then you forget about them and I watch and try and smile at them, sometimes buying something if I need it. But the hardest to see are the children who sell newspapers and candy. My heart just absolutly breaks for these kids, who are not in school as they should be, instead spending all day selling goods to probably give the money straight to their parents. And sometimes they get on the bus and start singing songs to get money and sell candy. I usually buy from them, but all I am doing is adding to the cyle of poverty.
     And the kids in the city, who walk around with shoe shining kits, scarves, and food to sell are even worse. They are always wearing old tattered clothes, and their faces are dirty--something that I can't help but wonder if is part of their act and their parents make them look worse off than they are. They are always dark skinned, and the farther south you go in the city you go, the more povershed children you find. It's interesting to standing back and watch them work. They know what they are doing. A lot of them hang out and try to work around the historical center, the old beautiful part of Quito that is close to the poor neighborhoods. They wait for groups of gringos (foreigners) to come through and just bombard you, thinking you have money--which in comparason to them is true, begging, and putting on their sad faces.
     It is hard to watch and I become torn of whether or not to buy anything. If I buy something, it gives them reason to stay on the streets, not go to school, never leave their neighborhood, and contribute to the cycle of poverty that exists. But at the same time, I wonder if they really are as bad off as they seem, or are they just trying to make money and know what they are doing? I've come to my own reasoning to only buy food, water, or other tokens from them if I need them. Or if they are performing and singing as they are just took cute to resist at that point.
     But also, on each corner there are street performers. Usually adults dancing, twirling ribbons, juggling, breathing fire, or some other sort of magic trick as cars wait at the lights. Most of them are pretty lame, but sometimes the jugglers are pretty good with people standing on shoulders throwing pins back and forth with their partners. My friend was dating a guy who dances on the street here and the dynamics of being a street performer are not so forward. Each performer has their own main intersection and there can be fights if someone else shows up and works other corners at the same time. How you obtain the intersections as your own, I do not know. But as a kid, this friend once collected $100 dollars in a day dancing on the street--his parents just took the money. They made him start doing dancing when he was 13 years old. Now he makes between $20-50 a day, which helps him get by. He basically lives in a tin shack, but is the happiest person I have met during my time here in Ecuador. He is working on getting out of the cycle and goes to classes on Saturdays.
      So there is hope, but for every kid that gets out of the poverty, I still know their are a five who didn't. I appreciate every cent I have now, and I try to be concious of what I am buying and where it comes from.